Labor Day

It's Labor Day again.  Time to take out the pier at Grandma Albright's house on the lake.

When I was growing up there were several holidays that brought Nana's family together. Christmas and Thanksgiving were big ones, and the May birthday party for Bob, Nancy, Nana, my mother, and the others later.  Homecoming weekend for VU was one for a while, and the Fourth of July parade back when they had the Soapbox Derby on Lincolnway.  All of these were held in Valparaiso, many of them at Nana's house (and later and Marilyn and Gerts' house as Nana grew older.)

Labor Day was the only one held out of Valpo at Grandma and Grandpa Albright's house on Flint Lake.  The May Birthday Party tradition started out as a Memorial Day picnic when we met at the lake to put in the pier for fishing and swimming.  Labor Day was the bookended picnic to take the pier out for the season.

During the summer I caught a lot of fish off that pier.  I jumped more than a few cannonballs off that pier, and pushed my fair shar of boats from that pier.  The pier was originally a rather dubious piece of construction by Grnadpa Albright of scrap lumber and diftwood that was the size and weight of a small span form the Golden Gate bridge, but in later years Uncle Gerts would make more sturdy, simple, and elegant designs from treated lumber that lasted longer and were better constructed.  They evolved from shaky affairs with thin ganglplanks tying them to the shore into sturdy outcroppings suitable for diving or launching small fleets of fishing boats.

The shoreline always looked full of hope and promise for the summer when the Pier was put out in May.  The shoreline looked desolate and forlorn when the pier disappeared in September.  But the lead-in to "Taking Out The Pier" was more celebration than wake.  Uncle Gerts manned the barbecue, as swarms of aunts set out a carry-in potluck feast of potato salads, beans, creamed corn, and corn-on-the-cob.  A watermelon or two were de riguer as well, and a cooler of beer was always around the corner.

Somewhere on the lake water-skiers were slaloming around the boat and leaving great waves that rocked our innertubes as we floated just offshore.  The sand and small fish were shadowboxed in the circles of the innertubes beneath us.  The sound of the outboard motors was deeper and richer traveling through the water

Towards the end of the day the glare from the sun in the western sky glared off the lake and hurt the eyes of the older relatives, so they would retreat to the cottage and talk.  Not me; I'd sit ont the shore and watch the waterskiers dwindle in number as the waves lapped gently on the shore.  A fish would jump here and there from time to time, as the mayflies skipped across the waves.

Writing that, I can smell the barbecues and the soft smell of seaweed and lake water.  The tang of a gasoline engine wafts thru from time to time as the outboards roar in the background.

Somewhere there's a cheeseburger with my name on it as Uncle Gerts leads the cousins and uncles into the water with a sledgehammer to knock out the pilings and return the pier to land for the winter.

Labor Day.  Here again, and gone forever.

~~JD~~

It's A Wonderful memory (A Christmas Memory)

It was the hot summer of 1967 when we moved into my great-grandmother's boarding house. (I know -- what's August got to do with Christmas?)

Honestly, it was a boarding house. Grandma Florence (whom we called "Grandma Florency") had inherited the house at some point and had taken in boarders after her divorce in the 1940's. Fortunately for her, the old house at 653 Garfield Street in my hometown of Valparaiso Indiana was a block or two from the University, so the house was always in demand by roomers ranging from drunks to college students to maiden ladies. The house was warrened into a subset of loose apartments by all the doors, but the only locks in the house were 1930's versions that used skeleton keys readily available from the Ace Hardware store downtown. In the mid 1960's Midwest, we really didn't need anything more secure.

The house was old and had basement apartments, mid-level apartments, upstairs apartments, and an attic room my bachelor Uncle Howard lived in for most of his adult life. He'd never married and never shown an interest in anybody but taking care of Momma, so he lived in the attic and worked as a janitor at the Indiana General Magnet plant. So we were surrounded by family and a traveling collection of weirdos when my parents divorced, and mom moved us into the big, rambling boarding house.

It was the perfect environment to be a nine-year-old. Uncle Bud and Aunt Margaret brought Grandma Florency dinner a couple of times a week and stopped to look in on Howard and us kids when Mom was going to school nights for her Nursing degree. Uncle Howard would drift in and out, almost ghostly, from his attic apartment from time to time. The doorway to his attic was right next to my bedroom and right across from the bathroom, so there was a sort of intersection of traffic right outside my door at all times.

Mom's sister and her husband (Aunt Marley and Uncle Gerts) would stop by once a month or so to make repairs to the old shambling house for Grandma Florency, and my grandmother (Florence's daughter-in-law) would babysit us kids on nights mom was at school. I'm not sure we even missed the absence of my father or would have cared with all this family flipping merrily through our house at any given time.

The center of the house was Grandma Florency's apartment. It was all dark wood and oak and crystal with beautiful oriental rugs on the floors and lace doilies on top of the furniture and backs of the couches. A pendulum clock on the mantle monotonously intoned the slow, steady passage of time when you stepped through it's doors, and all running children were stopped in their tracks. The air smelled of mothballs and the furniture creaked when you sat in it, if it didn't release a plume of long-withheld dust from deep inside the overstuffed cushions.

It was into this time-stifling atmosphere that I entered one day. I was to wait in Grandma Florency's apartment for someone to come pick me up after school. I really wanted to ride my bike in the warm afternoon sun, but Grandma wanted to keep an eye on me. i knocked on her door and she admitted me into her sanctum sanctorum living room with grave solemnity -- which is almost poisonous for a nine-year old. Another lady was sitting in the room with her, sipping tea in china cups and saucers, which was something she never did. This lady was important.

"Johnny, can you say Hello to Miss Bondy?,"asked my Great-grandmother. "Miss Bondy is one of my friends from out of town. She lives in California -- do you know where California is?" Of course I knew -- it was just past the land of Oz, on the end of the United States before you fell off the world into the Pacific Ocean, where strange and exotic human beings like Hawaiians and Alaskan eskimos lived. Grandma might as well have introduced me to Dorthy from The Wizard of Oz, or Santa Claus, or the Queen of England. They were all fictional characters as far as I was concerned, and I wasn't the least bit interested in her fantasies. Grandma explained she had grown up with the fictional Miss Bondy in Valparaiso, but Miss Bondy had moved to California for some reason, and they only kept up through letters.

I looked at Miss Bondy and said "H'lo." She very graciously smiled at me and had a mischievous twinkle to her eye, like there was some shared joke between the two of them that I didn't quite fathom. I asked to go ride my bike and she let me do that, and the two old childhood friends stood on the hot August sidewalk watching me ride in circles until whatever relative it was arrived to pick me up.

And that was the day I met Beulah Bondi.

I had no idea who she was at the time, and I kick myself today for not being more polite and gracious. I had no idea my grandmother was personal friends with Jimmy Stewart's screen mother, and John-Boy Walton's grandmother. I had no idea this woman had been nominated for Oscars many times, and would win an Emmy in just a few years for her work in The Waltons TV show.

And what did I care? I was nine years old and knew everything in the damned world.

Of course, today when I watch "It's a Wonderful Life" the movie seems much more familiar to me. The Baily Boarding House seems to be startlingly familiar -- and it should, because I grew up in a suspiciously similar house on Garfield Street. Bedford Falls could pass with few modifications for Valparaiso Indiana, and Ms Bailey looked just as "at-home" in that house as she had sitting in Grandma Florency's living room that hot August day.

We don't have anything like that day and place and time anymore. But at Christmas, we can pretend it is, just for a little while. We can sing "Hark, The Herald Angels Sing" and hear Janie Bailey banging the tune out on the piano, and crowd around the tree with family and friends, seeing Ma Bailey in the corner with that little twinkle in her eye again.

And, I do.

Merry Christmas.

~~JD~~

A Most Happy Thanksgivng, Indeed

Something to be Thankful for; as well as something pretty much Guaranteed to make you smile.

Really!

It's about 16 minutes long, but you will NOT regret watching this. After two minutes, you'll be transfixed. Watch it.



Big Ole' Texas Hat Tip: Urban Grounds.

Guess What I'm Thankful for?



Happy Thanksgiving!

~~JD~~

Happy Veterans Day

A Very stirring Veterans Day video; forwarded by this Veteran:



And then there's this little video:

And You're Welcome, by the way. Our Pleasure, really.

Hat Tip: The Jawa Report

~~JD~~

Halloween Ghost Stories; Starring Nurses!

Nurses are funny things. Nursing is more than just a job. Nurses deal with life and death of human beings on a daily (and even hourly) basis. So, this tends to make nurses super-dedicated to their profession and their patients.

Nursing is the only profession you can lose your job and your professional liscensure if you call in sick or go home early. Hospitals can legally lock nurses in the hospital if the weather gets too bad for replacements to arrive. Up north, if a blizzard blows in, they send the National Guard out in tracked vehicles to bring in the police and the nurses -- it happens somewhere in the U.S. every single year. It happened in 1999 in Indiana when I lived there.

And the beautiful thing is, most of this is really unnecessary. When the bad weather rolls in, the nurses have already made arrangements for child care and are on their way to the hospitals. When the Hurricane Katrina and Ike and Rita evacuees rolled into town, nurses lined up 7 and 10 deep to volunteer at the shelters.

It's more obsession than profession.

So why are we so surprised when nurses show up at work after they've died themselves?

A good friend of mine, a local author (whose name I won't reveal until he gives me permission to do so) was recently hospitalized at a local county run hospital here in San Antonio. When he woke up after his brief naps, he would have brief moments when, just after opening his eyes, he saw a pretty dark haired nurse dressed all in pink scrubs standing at his bedside tending to him. When he blinked, she was gone.

This happened repeatedly -- even to the point that one time she had several others with her -- and they all disappeared when he blinked. He finally asked one of the nurses about her.

"O, several people have seen her today," she commented dryly, like it happened all the time there. "All hospitals have ghosts."

And it's quite true. The outpatient Dialysis Clinic of the same hospital has a phantom cleaning man who tends the floors night and day. Cleaning staff won't go into the clinic alone after hours. Several of them knew him when he was alive.

The odd part to the story is that this county hospital was built after the old hospital (which still exists as a clinic downtown) began to have so many reports of ghosts and so many frightened housekeepers quitting in terror in the middle of the night that the county supervisors decided to build a new hospital just to keep the peace. So both facilities seem to have their share of eternal staff, it seems.

Another major hospital of a faith-based origin downtown has a medical campus downtown. Originally starting out in a five story building, it has since moved to a larger eight story edifice across the street. The last 24 hour clinical care area at this hospital to leave the original building was the Intensive Care Unit. The ICU moved after several incidents where patients became critically ill or even died when their Intravenous medication lines were all found running wide open, overdosing patients on their medications. When the surveillance tapes were played back, the IV's were clearly seen opening themselves with no staff members present.

That tape is still said to exist somewhere in the hospital security office -- I heard this from an officer who watched it last month.

Since that time frequent noises and voices have been reported from this old 5th floor ICU at all hours of the days and night. It's common to send new officers to investigate these noises without explanation. One officer I spoke with had watched several nurses in old-style white starched uniforms and caps sorting paperwork for 45 minutes from an adjacent floor of the newer building while a rookie searched the old building for these nurses. He even radioed in one time, saying he was in the room indicated, and could see the officers looking at him, but there were no nurses there or lights on -- while the officers could clearly see the nurses.

One of the rookies tells an even stranger story. He was sent to investigate the fifth floor several years ago right after the ICU had moved out. He went up the stairs instead of the elevator and came out to a floor with lights on and a nursing station full of nurses. They looked odd somehow, but he said hello and told them he was just checking the floor, and they smiled at him and told him to go ahead. Each room had patients in the beds, each room was neatly maintained and clean -- each room had the windows open for the clear hot August night.

No air conditioning. Then he noticed there were no televisions either. When he reached the end of the hall at the nurse's lounge he saw an old 1930's Victrola wooden case radio on the desk playing big band music.

He turned and walked straight out of the unit, pausing briefly to say good night to the nurses, who again politely acknowledged him. When he got his supervisor and returned less than 10 minutes later (coming up the elevator this time) the floor was dark, the rooms were locked and stacked with castoff furniture, and the nurses station was piled high with boxes of paperwork.

He was almost fired on the spot. He swears this is true.

My own experience with this type of experience was when I worked at a faith-based nursing home on the near northwest side. As I worked the 3-11 shift and headed home every night at midnight, I frequently saw the nursing supervisor sitting in the nursing station of the adjacent unit reading paperwork. She wore the old-style starched white midi-dress and nursing cap.

A month or two later I heard one of the nurses comment on the "ghost" of the nursing supervisor, and that she was seen on the unit next door where here office used to be. I didn't say anything at the time for fear of ridicule, but made a mental note. Less than a week after that as I drove past those windows I saw her there, stopped the car, and went up to the window to get a better look.

The nurse, when she realized I was there, looked up and waved at me, smiling broadly. Startled, I waved back, then got back in my car.

When I looked again, she was gone.

Never saw her again, either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'll give you this one as well, although it's not Nursing related.

When we were looking at cars last year we took a test drive at a Honda dealer at IH-10 and 1604. Behind the Honda dealer is an old stagecoach stop that is probably 150 years old or more that the dealer restored as part of the deal when they bought the property.

The salesman who we were riding with told us that during the restoration process they lost two night watchmen who ran off the property in the middle of the night and refused to come back. Both of these watchmen swore up and down (and independently of each other) that they had seen the stagecoach come in at 3:00am, complete with driver, passengers, and shotgun rider. The passengers disembarked, and the coach just disappeared.

As he said this I looked at the upper windows of the stagecoach stop building (it was about 9:00 pm) and saw a small child looking back at me from the window on the left. I asked him if anyone lived there now. He told me the building had been locked for years, but that faces were sometimes seen at the window.

. . . . Yeah, I figured that part out.



~~JD~~

Happy 4th of July!

I don't know if there's anything more American than Jimmy Cagney tap-dancing to "Yankee Doodle" on the 4th of July.

Very Likely Not.





And here's something else to Cheer your Fourth: A link to the National Republican Committee asking about Why You Are Proud of your Country. Here's mine:

I am proud of my country because we can make mistakes here. And God knows, we've made some Lulu's over the years; but if there's something going on and it's wrong, we have the innate ability to see the wrong, make the change, and come out better for it.

Re-writing the Constitution from the Articles of Confederation. Paying Mexico after we seized the southwest in the Mexican war, even though we didn't have to do so. Repealing slavery, and making freed slaves full citizens with voting rights. The Civil Rights movement. Everything we learned from Vietnam that made Iraq, Afghanistan, Panama, and Grenada so right.

In so many countries around the world "that's the way it's always been done" is a way of life, if not the Status Quo. In America we not only right the wrongs, we go beyond. We see the possibilities, and reach for the stars. No other nation has walked on the moon, or built an international space station that invites other nations to participate freely.

And no other nation forgives our enemies quite like we do. Rebuilding Iraq and Afghanistan. A Free South Korea and Japan. The whole Marshall Plan. Mexican reparations in the Gadsden purchase.

For everything "wrong" with America, there's ten things right nobody else in the world would even think of doing.

And here's another link to make you proud of our country if you haven't seen it already: Real American Stories.

Happy Fourth of July, wherever you might be today.

~~JD~~

Happy Juneteenth!

I can't believe I've never blogged about this before! It's so uniquely Texan.

From Wikipedia:

Though the Emancipation Proclamation had been issued on September 22, 1862, with an effective date of January 1, 1863, it had little immediate effect on most slaves’ day-to-day lives, particularly in Texas, which was almost entirely under Confederate control. Juneteenth commemorates June 19, 1865, the day Union General Gordon Granger and 2,000 federal troops arrived in Galveston, Texas, to take possession of the state and enforce the emancipation of its slaves. Legend has it while standing on the balcony of Galveston’s Ashton Villa, Granger read the contents of “General Order No. 3”:

The people of Texas are informed that, in accordance with a proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free. This involves an absolute equality of personal rights and rights of property between former masters and slaves, and the connection heretofore existing between them becomes that between employer and hired labor. The freedmen are advised to remain quietly at their present homes and work for wages. They are informed that they will not be allowed to collect at military posts and that they will not be supported in idleness either there or elsewhere.^[8]

That day has since become known as Juneteenth, a name derived from a portmanteau of the words June and nineteenth.

Former slaves in Galveston rejoiced in the streets with jubilant celebrations. Juneteenth celebrations began in Texas the following year.^[8] Across many parts of Texas, freed people pooled their funds to purchase land specifically for their communities’ increasingly large Juneteenth gatherings — including Houston’s Emancipation Park, Mexia’s Booker T. Washington Park, and Emancipation Park in Austin.^[8] Juneteenth celebrations include a wide range of festivities, such as parades, street fairs, cookouts, or park parties and include such things as music and dancing or even contests of physical strength and intellect. Baseball and other popular American games may also be played.

In literature

Ralph Ellison's second novel Juneteenth deals with this holiday and its traditions. Juneteenth was published posthumously.

Carolyn Meyer's novel Jubilee Journey is the story of one young biracial girl celebrating Juneteenth with her relatives in Texas, while also learning to be proud of her African American heritage.

Ann Rinaldi's historical novel Come Juneteenth is the story of how Juneteenth came to be, and follows the life of the daughter of a young white plantation-owner's daughter in Texas during the Civil War whose family faces tragedy after their mulatto half-sister runs away when learning they lied to her about being free.

Traditions

Juneteenth is traditionally celebrated with a large feast served as an all day meal in a park or outdoor space. The traditional dishes of Juneteenth are served pot luck and usually include portions of barbecue, cakes, fresh fruit and vegetables, and pies.

Now from today's San Antonio Express-News:

Juneteenth sparks memories of celebrations long ago
Web Posted: 06/19/2008 01:51 AM; By Jeorge Zarazua

One of Jerelyne Castleberry Williams' earliest memories of celebrating Juneteenth in San Antonio is being able to, as a teenager, get into Playland Park, an old amusement park on North Alamo Street that shut down in 1980. “Playland

Park was closed to African Americans all year long,” said Williams, now 73. “One day we could go, and that was the 19th of June. I remember getting off from the little job I had and taking my little money to spend. That was the day when the park was open to blacks.”

Williams recounted the story to illustrate not only how much progress has been made, but to show how far back she recalls celebrating Juneteenth in San Antonio.

Juneteenth — an official state holiday since 1980 — commemorates June 19, 1865, the date Union Maj. Gen. Gordon Granger landed in Galveston to impose an order freeing more than 200,000 slaves in Texas. The order came two months after Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee surrendered to Union forces and more than two years after President Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation. A second order instructed the remaining rogue Confederate troops in Texas to surrender to Union troops in the state's larger cities, including San Antonio. As a result, celebrations marking the freedom of slaves have been held in the Alamo City as far back as 1866, the year after Granger's arrival in Galveston.

Today, the Juneteenth celebrations enjoy resurgence across the state, and specifically in San Antonio, where various groups have been able to put together more events in observance of the date than in recent memory.

Highlights include today's Juneteenth Parade, which kicks off at the base of the Martin Luther King Jr. statue on the corner of East Houston and South New Braunfels and ends up at the Freeman Coliseum. Additional festivities will follow there with speeches, re-enactments and music. Celebrations will culminate Saturday with the 13th annual Juneteenth Festival and Family Reunion Picnic at Comanche Park No. 2.

Byron Miller, a member of the Texas Emancipation Juneteenth Cultural and Historical Commission, has been putting together the event, modeled on traditional Juneteenth picnics, since former Gov. Bush appointed him to the commission. “I've seen it grow by the fact that people are a lot more educated by the significance of the holiday,” Miller said. “The major thing that we want folks to understand about Juneteenth is that it not only marked the last day of slavery but it also marked the first day of freedom.”

Williams, as president of the African American Genealogical and Historical Society, said she's excited to see more people celebrating Juneteenth because of its importance to the African American community. “I firmly believe, if you don't know where you've been, you don't know where you're going,” she said.

EN Video: There's also a video repeort on "Juneteenth on the River Walk" HERE.

Juneteenth is significant to me personally because in June 2002 I traveled to San Antonio from the Chicagoland area prior to our move in August of that year. I drove straight through (26 hour drive!), slept the next day, then went out the third day to interview for jobs. That day was June 19th, 2002, and everywhere I went they had a barbecue going and people were wishing me a "Happy Juneteenth." It was a great way to get introduced to South Texas culture.

Being a Yankee most of my life, I didn't have a clue. But I love the tradition and the celebrations today.

Happy Juneteenth!

~~JD~~

Happy Memorial Day!

Since I'm a Nurse, I'm working today (of course). Just a few random juxtapostions to help you through the day.

Remembrance, gratitude, fortitude; By Michelle Malkin



"The object of war is not to die for your country, but to make the other bastard die for his." -- General George S. Patton

And here's the video to accompany that thought:




Finally, my wife's favorite scene from the movie "Independence Day" -- "I could have been at a BARBECUE!!!!"




Which I'm sure i'll hear half-a-dozen times at work tomorrow . . . (sigh)

~~JD~~

Saturday Morning San Antonio, Memorial Day Weekend 2008

~~JD~~

Belated Cinco de Mayo Wishes!

Choose You Holiday: Cinco De Mayo . . . .



. . . . or Cinco De Pollo . . . .






























. . . . Con Mayo!



















~~JD~~

Why You Shouldn't Give Easter Candy to An Obsessive-Compulsive Diabetic

(Sigh . . . .)

~~JD~~

I've Always Wondered Where The Easter Bunny Gets His Chocolate

A sad little note that dashes all my preconceptions about the Easter Bunny. From today's Gary Post-Tribune

Thieves Steal Trailer, 20 Tons of Chocolate
March 25, 2008; BY STAN MADDUX Post-Tribune correspondent

MICHIGAN CITY -- Police are looking for a thief with a huge sweet tooth after someone stole a semitrailer carrying more than 20 tons of Hershey's products.

LaPorte County Police Chief of Detectives John Boyd said he isn't sure if there's a black market for that much chocolate or exactly what the thieves will do with 41,000 pounds of it.

"I don't have any idea," said Boyd.

Daryl Rey, 58, said he picked up the load near St. Louis and then Saturday morning left the trailer outside Gas City truck stop on U.S. 421 just south of Michigan City. The Michigan City-area man returned less than 24 hours later to drive the load to a warehouse in Wisconsin and the 53-foot-long trailer was missing.

He believes professionals were at work because the hidden satellite tracking device was removed from the trailer. Apparently, the device was thrown into a nearby pond, he said.

Despite the cargo being insured, Rey's wife, Patricia, said her husband is taking the loss hard. "He's really bummed out," she said.

My other suspect would be New orleans mayor Ray Nagin; famous for his "Chocolate City."

~~JD~~

Red Sky at Night; Sailor's Delight

Wil Wheaton at his blog HERE posted this picture; a very fitting way to end 2007 (or, better yet, begin 2008.)

Happy New Year. Prepare for great things.

~~JD~~

Christmas at Casa Largo 2007

We had a pretty good Christmas at Casa Largo. We all ate until we were stuffed, which was (for me) much less this year. My doctor has been shuffling my medications and my appetite has decreased dramatically since October -- as has my weight. Usually I can eat a dozen or more hot wings in a sitting -- this year it was a struggle to eat only six.

We opened out presents, and my pick of the litter was this postcard Ariane and I found at an antiques shop:




How a postcard from the 1960's Bozo's Circus got to San Antonio I don't know -- but there it was for sale for a few bucks. The damned thing is probably priceless.

After we woke up and had lunch we went and saw two movies. Will Smith in "I Am Legend" was magnificent, but the whole storyline was so depressing that we came out of the movie decidedly mixed. However, we perked right up with watching Tom Hanks' "Charlie Wilson's War," which was alternately touching and hilarious. Phillip Seymour Hoffman shows why he won an Oscar, and should probably be nominagted for this movie, too. The movie gives a straightforward, no-holds barred look at how deals are made in Congress and names names. Well worth your time, and you come out smiling.

Going to bed now -- gotta work in the morning.

~~JD~~

Merry Christmas!

This house is now officially the "Most Over-Decorated home" -- EVER.



I'm sitting here at Casa Largo with a tall, cool strawberry daquiri with 'waaaayyyy too much Rum in it, as the lovely and gracious Ariane and I watch "It's a Wonderful Life" and "Miracle On 34th Street" in rapid succession. Appetizers of chicken wings and cheese abound, with Beef Bouginon for midnight dinner. Right now the even money has it we'll eat before then, with presents at the stroke of midnight. (Ariane worked today and got up at 2am, so she's pretty wiped.)

The kittens are nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of catnip mice dance in their heads.

And it may just be the rum; but Donna Reed was pretty hot in her day.

Merry Christmas.

~~JD~~

Another One For Santa's "Naughty" List . . .

An old Christmas tradition at most Holiday gatherings are the old grudges that re-appear and boil over into the festivities. These grudges are triggered by the most insignificant actions. Sometimes it's not about the actions; it's about the issues. It just takes a small thing to pick open the scab and all the old things come boiling out.

So it's not really about opening the Christmas present. From yesterday's Associated Press (via Breitbart.com)

Woman Allegedly Stabs Husband Over Gift
Dec 21 11:07 PM US/Eastern

ROCK SPRINGS, Wyo. (AP) - A woman stabbed her husband with a kitchen knife following an argument that began when she accused him of opening a Christmas present early, authorities said Friday. Misty Johnson, 34, was arrested and charged with aggravated assault and battery, a felony, and misdemeanor domestic battery. Her husband, Shawn Fay Johnson, 34, was treated at a hospital for a wound to the chest, police said.

Authorities said Shawn Johnson called 911 just before 1 a.m. Wednesday to report that his wife had stabbed him. He told police that his wife started arguing with him over his opening a Christmas present, according to court records. As the argument escalated, Misty Johnson accused her husband of having an affair, authorities said. Police Detective David Thompson said he didn't know what the present was, or if it was intended for the husband.

Not that the present had anything to do with the fight, officer.

~~JD~~

Archbishop Believes In the Bible; Mainstream Media Completely Miss The Point

The Headline on THE DRUDGE REPORT read "Archbishop of Canterbury says nativity 'a legend'...", which was enough to grab my attention quickly. The Archbishop of Canterbury doesn't believe in the Christmas Story? What The . . . ????

Clicking through to the Linked page brought me to the British newspaper THE TELEGRAPH, where the headline read similarly " Archbishop says nativity 'a legend'." The story that followed, however, read very differently, and showed just how little the reporter knew about their Bible:

Archbishop Says Nativity 'a Legend'

By Sophie Borland: 1:25pm GMT 20/12/2007

The Archbishop of Canterbury said yesterday that the Christmas story of the Three Wise Men was nothing but a 'legend'. Dr Rowan Williams has claimed there was little evidence that the Magi even existed and there was certainly nothing to prove there were three of them or that they were kings.

(John's Note: That is certainly supported by the 2nd chapter of Matthew:

2:1 After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, in the time of King Herod, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem 2:2 saying, “Where is the one who is born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”

2:11 As they came into the house and saw the child with Mary his mother, they bowed down and worshiped him. They opened their treasure boxes and gave him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

So there were an unspecified number of wise men, who gave three types of gifts. Not necessarily three wise men -- the text is not specific.)

Dr Williams argued that the traditional Christmas story was nothing but a 'legend'. He said the only reference to the wise men from the East was in Matthew's gospel and the details were very vague. Dr Williams said: "Matthew's gospel says they are astrologers, wise men, priests from somewhere outside the Roman Empire, that's all we're really told. It works quite well as legend."

(John's Note: well, it only says "wise men" -- which could mean anything. But I'm still with the Archbishop so far.)

The Archbishop went on to dispel other details of the Christmas story, adding that there were probably no asses or oxen in the stable. He argued that Christmas cards which showed the Virgin Mary cradling the baby Jesus, flanked by shepherds and wise men, were misleading.

(Okay; here we part ways a bit. In Biblical times it was common to have an "upper room" area to the stable for the stable staff to bed down in for the night. It was elevated above the livestock to take advantage of the heat generated by the animals - so there may have been animals present -- just not in the face of the baby Jesus. And nowhere in Matthew of Luke does it mention the shepherds met the Wise Men. So we're still in general agreement here.)

As for the scenes that depicted snow falling in Bethlehem, the Archbishop said the chance of this was "very unlikely".

(Agreed. Whens the last time you saw snow in the near-desert of the the Holy Lands?)

In a final blow to the traditional nativity story, Dr Williams concluded that Jesus was probably not born in December at all. He said: "Christmas was when it was because it fitted well with the winter festival."

(This is probably true, as Luke notes:

2:8 Now there were shepherds nearby living out in the field, keeping guard over their flock at night.

The footnote to NetBIBLE says:

Some argue that shepherds were among the culturally despised, but the evidence for this view of shepherds is late, coming from 5th century Jewish materials. December 25 as the celebrated date of Jesus’ birth arose around the time of Constantine (ca. a.d. 306-337), though it is mentioned in material from Hippolytus (a.d. 165-235). Some think that the reason for celebration on this date was that it coincided with the pagan Roman festival of Saturnalia, and Christians could celebrate their own festival at this time without fear of persecution. On the basis of the statement that the shepherds were living out in the field, keeping guard over their flock at night it is often suggested that Jesus’ birth took place in early spring, since it was only at lambing time that shepherds stood guard over their flocks in the field.)

now, for the despicable part. He was debating a comedian on the BBC. Whose brainless idea was that?

His comments came during an interview on BBC Radio 5 Live with Simon Mayo yesterday. Later on in the show, the Archbishop was challenged by fellow guest Ricky Gervais, the comedian, about the credibility of the Christmas story. Gervais told Dr Williams he was concerned about "brainwashing" of children who are sent to faith schools at an early age, comparing teaching that God exists to belief in Father Christmas. Dr Williams said faith schools expose children to the full range of human experience and values and he did not believe they indoctrinated people.

"Brainwashing???" Wotta maroon! Sounds more to me like the BBC set up the Archbishop, and the Telegraph ran around spreading the story that 'the Archbishop doesn't believe?'

Typical. Why doesn't this surprise me? No, No -- no media left-wing bias here -- nothing to see, Move along, Move along . . .

~~JD~~

John's Christmas List, Part V

I honestly don't expect to get this for Christmas; although I'd **LOVE** to. But I expect to order this soon thereafter.

Handheld Birds® Software. Software supported by following PDAs; Tungsten E, E2, T2,T3,T5, T/X; Zire 72; LifeDrive; Treo 650 Smartphone. Requires Windows 2000 or XP and HotSync Manager 4.0 or greater to link PC and PDA.

Item 73786 ................... $199.95
Limited Inventory: Order Soon to Ensure Availability.

Man! Talk about turning your Palm Pilot® into a Star Trek Tricorder! And the "Play the Song" feature would drive the cats Nuts!

~~JD~~

John's Christmas List, Part IV

This is something I have to have!!! I have a TON of old cassette tapes that need converting to MP3s, and this is just the little gem to do it. From the HAMMACHER SCHLEMMER Christmas Catalog:

The Cassette-To-MP3 Converter.

This dual cassette player allows you to convert your out-of-print cassette tapes to MP3 format for preservation without the need for a conversion service. The device plugs into a computer (PC or Mac) with the included USB cable, and with the included software, your cassette recordings are converted into MP3 files and stored on your computer for playback on an iPod® or other MP3 player. The software allows you to break songs into individual tracks, and the player has metal/CrO2 and noise-reduction settings. High-speed dubbing allows you to speed up conversion times. Plugs into AC. 5 1/4" H x 16 1/2" W x 8 3/4" D. (5 lbs.)

Item 74084 ................... $149.95
Available for Immediate Shipment. (Hint, Hint!)

~~JD~~

Christmas Card Arrives 93 Years Late

Under the perrennial "The Post Office Sucks!" category, we have this today from Yahoo News:

Christmas Card Arrives 93 Years Late

Fri Dec 14, 4:13 PM ET: OBERLIN, Kan. - A postcard featuring a color drawing of Santa Claus and a young girl was mailed in 1914, but its journey was slower than Christmas. It just arrived in northwest Kansas. The Christmas card was dated Dec. 23, 1914, and mailed to Ethel Martin of Oberlin, apparently from her cousins in Alma, Neb.

It's a mystery where it spent most of the last century, Oberlin Postmaster Steve Schultz said. "It's surprising that it never got thrown away," he said. "How someone found it, I don't know."

Ethel Martin is deceased, but Schultz said the post office wanted to get the card to a relative. That's how the 93-year-old relic ended up with Bernice Martin, Ethel's sister-in-law. She said she believed the card had been found somewhere in Illinois. "That's all we know," she said. "But it is kind of curious. We'd like to know how it got down there."

The card was placed inside another envelope with modern postage for the trip to Oberlin — the one-cent postage of the early 20th century wouldn't have covered it, Martin said. "We don't know much about it," she said. "But wherever they kept it, it was in perfect shape."

For some reason the mainstream media just loves to go ga-ga when misdirected and lost mail is found. The truth is that as older, smaller post offices are phased out and their equipment removed, finds like this are rare, but do happen. A postcard/letter that fell behind a scale or postage meter ages ago is discovered and sent on to it's intended recipient.

I think it's kind of commendable that the Post Office didn't just throw it away, but went to all the trouble and expense to locate the letter's next-of-kin.

Good for them!

~~JD~~